Anamnesis
by vickitata14
Summary: Nothing is ever completely forgotten. Ben remembers. Lisa remembers there's something she's forgotten. Dean will always be a part of them.


**The Lisa/Ben/Dean storyline broke my heart okay. Sooooooo it totally makes me feel better to break it more with this little fic. **

**My first Supernatural fic, please read and review.**

**I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. If I did, this storyline would not have ended so horribly.**

* * *

It must have been the stillness that woke her. Lisa could not remember falling asleep, nor when she began holding her breath, but the shock of alertness and the writhing tightness in her chest told her that both had occurred. Her pulse throbbing dully in her ears and the darkness permeating her eyes robbed her of everything but the overwhelming sensation of another presence in the room. Fighting to contain her movements and breathing against the instinctive rush of adrenaline, she turned her head to where a thinner darkness marked the open bedroom door.

Once again, instinct preceded actual sense perception as she stared at a motionless, tall strip of solid black where there should have been more vestiges of light from the hallway. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make it out in more detail. Her breath caught once more as the shadow formed into the silhouette of a man, well built, hair cut short, with the collar of his oversized jacket turned up around his neck. Her heart began to ricochet about her ribcage, but the electrifying sensation coursing through her was not fear.

"Dean?" she breathed. _Who was Dean?_

The man in the doorway straightened. Some overpowering emotion choked and paralyzed her as he took a step forward.

"Mom? Mom, it's just me."

The familiar voice set her free and she felt all the wild energy melt away without a trace. Her son Ben furrowed his brow at her, absentmindedly turning down the collar of the large button-down pajama shirt he wore. He saw his mother was already falling back to sleep, but the strange trance that had led him to her bedroom doorway had broken and he was wide awake, mind and heart racing inexplicably.

"You okay Mom?" he whispered, approaching her and placing his hand over hers.

"Yeah, baby," she murmured, caressing his finger tips with her thumb before slipping away.

**. . .**

When Lisa came down to the kitchen the next morning, she found her son already sitting at the counter, staring moodily at a bowl of cereal. He didn't react when she placed her hand over his and kissed his temple. She lifted an eyebrow. Ben had been shying away from physical displays of affection for some time now; it apparently wasn't "cool" for a senior in high school to let his mother kiss him.

"Good morning, sunshine," she said by way of a gentle hint that something might be wrong.

He ignored the greeting, instead bluntly putting to her the singular question in his mind. "Mom, do we know anybody named Dean?"

Lisa frowned thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

Ben hesitated for a long moment. Lisa gazed expectantly at him, her eyes wide and clear.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just this weird dream I had."

"Yeah?" Lisa got out two glasses from the cupboard and a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator. She smiled at him with warm amusement as she poured. "You haven't told me about your dreams in years, Ben. This one must've really been something!"

Ben shrugged, accepted the glass from his mother and sipped absently at it.

"Come on, don't leave me hanging now, kiddo," she teased. "I want to hear about this dream!"

"Well, it's actually more like a series of dreams. I've been having them for a while now, but they're all about the same guy: this guy named Dean. He does all sorts of stuff, drives this sick car. He's pretty badass. Like a hero from a monster movie or something. I had this dream where I was like a little kid again, and I watched him fight off this creepy lady who had, like, captured me or something. Pretty weird.

"Anyways that was like a week ago. Then I had a dream that this guy was living with us, but he was acting all normal and stuff. No monsters, no cool car, no anything. He was just a regular guy.

"Then, last night-" Ben paused to take a breath, mentally steeling himself. The next words seemed caught in his throat. "-last night I had this dream that the monsters got us both. You and me. They beat us and tied us up and I was sure we were gonna die. Next thing I knew, Dean came busting through the door with a knife, mad as hell. He cut us loose, but the monster had...got inside you, and made you-made you stab yourself.

"I woke up right after that with some crazy feeling that it was all real and you were dying somewhere. I mean, I was half-asleep, I guess. So that's why I was standing outside your room. I saw you were there and okay, obviously, and I was ready to go back to sleep, but you woke up. And then something weird happened, and I mean seriously freaky. You looked at me, and you said his name. 'Dean?' Like you thought he was there in the room. So all I could think was that we must know some guy...minus the monsters of course...Mom?"

Lisa listened with amusement to the first two dreams whilst getting out a frying pan and a carton of eggs, interjecting at all the right moments with fond acknowledgements of her son's creativity. A crease appeared on her forehead when he began the third, but her hand froze in midair as he related how he saw her drive a knife into herself. As if in a trance, she set down the egg she had been poised to crack, and her hands went of their own accord to her abdomen, where the doctors told her she had been wounded in a car crash several years ago. There had never been a scar, but sometimes she thought she felt something there. Then Ben described the events of the previous night and she was shot through with that same electric feeling, like she had touched upon something forbidden and very powerful. _  
_

_Dean._

_Who was Dean?_

She felt like her head would split open trying to remember something she was sure she didn't know.

"Mom?"

Once again, her son's voice grounded her, bringing her back to reality. He was standing beside her, his hand placed comfortingly on her shaking one.

"It was just a dream, Mom. I didn't mean to upset you."

The feeling was fading quickly, and it left behind a sort of oblivion. She felt it slipping away, and suddenly it was nothing at all. She couldn't even remember what it was she had been grasping at, or if had ever actually been there in the first place. She cupped Ben's cheek and kissed him once more.

"It's okay, buddy. Will you hand me a spatula?"

**. . .**

That night, Lisa went to her room, shut the door, and cried herself to sleep. She didn't know why.


End file.
